


trashpit day

by conchstellations



Series: lotf one-shot thingies!! [4]
Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: everybody is best friends, everyone cleans maurice's room, theyre all happy and friends bc i said so, this is the worst fic i have written i think but u know what i liked writing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conchstellations/pseuds/conchstellations
Summary: there is one day that everybody dreads, one day that when mentioned makes you want to cry. a day of pain, a day of suffering, and a day of wishing you had made better friends.the day where everybody cleaned maurice's room.
Series: lotf one-shot thingies!! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884880
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	trashpit day

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!!! this fic barely has a plot, and it's kinda short, but i liked writing it, so i hope you enjoy!!!! :)

It was the day that everyone hated. The day that came once a year, the big event that they all dreaded for the days leading up to it. The day of pain, of Ralph and Jack arguing over the smallest things, the day Simon fell silent and did his own thing in the corner, the day Maurice loved above all other days. 

It went by many names. Ralph liked to call it, "Helping Maurice Get His Shit Together Day". Jack liked to call it, "The Day I Realize I Have Made Friends With The Wrong People." Roger liked to call it, "The Day I Hate My Life Even More Than Usual." 

The name they had finally decided upon was, "Shitpit Day."

It was the day they did the impossible, with the power of teamwork and 20 energy drinks. The day they all entered a place that no one ever entered except for Maurice himself. The day that they cleaned Maurice's room.

Everyone had gathered in the living room, and were expectantly awaiting for the arrival of their last member, who always seemed to be late. Always. As he finally arrived, throwing his jacket onto the floor before being scolded by Ralph, Jack plopped down onto the couch with a dramatic sigh and tossed an exasperated look toward Maurice.

Ralph stood up, clearing his throat, and got his phone out of his pocket. He smiled, but pain was hidden in his eyes, pain that everyone could see. He swiped through a few things, and then the TV beside him flashed on to reveal a title slide. The annual slideshow was a crucial part of this grand event. 

Ralph grinned at everyone, defeated. He gestured toward the television, and then sighed. "Alright, everyone. It's the day you've all been dreading. Shitpit day. In order to keep things running smoothly, and avoid another incident like last year-" Ralph paused as he glared at Jack, who put his hands up defensively with innocent eyes. "We'll be reviewing the rules, assigning tasks, and getting our complaints out of the way."

Ralph clicked another thing on his phone, and a new slide appeared. Displayed was a set of rules, professionally displayed in comic sans font.

"Rule number one, everyone: don't throw things out unless it's obvious trash. Ask Maurice if you're unsure, alright?" Nods of understanding rippled throughout the room, and Maurice smiled brightly.

Ralph tapped once more, and the first rule flew away. Jack groaned. 

"Are the effects really needed?" He complained. Ralph glared at him, rolling his eyes.

"Did I fucking ask for comments? No." He straightened back up again, and continued. "Anyways, rule number two: actually do your fucking job. This one should just go without saying, but every year at least one of you just sits around and does literally nothing." Everyone turned their heads to look at Eric, who chose to instead look at the ground.

"And, rule number three, the obligatory one. Have fun, I guess." Ralph looked around, and seemed to be content as no one objected to his rules. He returned to his phone, and another slide popped up.

"Let's go over the roles. We'll start with me and Jack. Our job will be to stay with Maurice and make sure he actually contributes, as well as attack the piles on the floor with him." Jack mimed smashing his head against the wall, earning a small laugh from Roger. Maurice stuck his tongue out at them.

"Roger, since you seem to be having such a good time, your job is under the bed. Suck it, fucker." Ralph instructed with a smirk, and now it was Roger's turn to mime smashing his head into the wall. Jack began cackling at this, and it took around 20 seconds for him to finally stop.

"Sam and Eric, you guys will be tackling the piles as well, but your main job is just to separate the obvious garbage from the clothes and everything. Toss all the non-trash towards me, Jack, and Maurice, and we'll go through it, alright?" The twins both looked at each other in disbelief, and Ralph could've sworn he saw Eric flip him off before he turned away.

"Simon and Piggy! You're in charge of organizing, and doing the details and all that. Start off by organizing the shelves and that stuff, then once we get some laundry through, you can fold it and put it away." Simon and Piggy both looked visibly relieved, and everyone else in the room looked extremely offended. 

"Why the fuck do they get the easy job, and I'm sorting trash?" Eric asked, and Ralph shushed him before turning back to the slideshow. He gave Maurice one last pitying look, then tapped on his phone.

The slide only read, 'Complain.' It started in an instant. Roger was grumbling something about hating everyone in the room and very detailed threats, while Jack had taken a more direct approach with loud yelling. Piggy and Simon didn't have anything to say, so they just sat awkwardly in the corner, while Sam and Eric were both ranting about how they hate living in this house and how it was the biggest mistake of their life. Once the talking had died down a bit, Ralph cleared his throat once more, and spoke.

"Supplies are already set up, there's gloves if you want them. Get in your teams. I wish you luck." With that, everyone stood up and began to walk upstairs, some much faster than others. Ralph got there first, and when his roommates had gathered outside their future hell, he slowly opened the door.

It was worse than he could've imagined. As soon as he opened the door, he was hit with a wave of smell that was something like moldy oranges. It hit your nose like a punch, and Ralph scrunched up his face and began to breathe through his mouth. The air was stuffy, and somehow even tasted gross. The whole floor was coated in a thick layer of clothing and other belongings, wildly strewn about without a care. Things drooped off shelves, paintings hung crookedly on their hooks, the bed was covered in what seemed like every crumb that had ever existed. In that moment, Ralph found himself wanting to turn and run, but he knew what he had to do. 

Maurice took the first step, and Ralph timidly followed. Maurice seemed like he was in his natural environment, and flopped into the pile of clothes like a dead fish. Ralph kneeled nervously, trying not to touch things. Jack seemed to have given up on avoiding the hell hole that this room had transformed into, and joined Maurice in his collapsing into the piles.

Ralph picked up the first object. It was a neon yellow and red shirt with the classic golden arches on it. He raised an eyebrow.

"A McDonald's shirt? Trash, I guess. Looks like it was free, you may as well throw it out." He suggested, and was about to toss it into a trash bag before Maurice stopped him.

"Hey! Ronald McDonald himself gave that to me 2 years ago, and he said it would look good on me. I trust him." He explained, and Ralph was baffled. Jack snorted. 

"Oh, so a fast food mascot clown gave it to you. Understandable." He joked, but Maurice nodded solemnly. Ralph tossed it onto the bed without another word.

"You have way too many clothes, dude. We're gonna have to throw some out." Jack said, looking around at the pile they were currently seated in. Maurice frowned.

"How could I? I mean, look at all this stuff! Have you seen any more shirts like this?" Maurice asked, rummaging through a nearby pile and pulling out a sweatshirt embroidered with a very realistic pelican swooping into the waves. 

"I don't want to see more shirts like that, Maurice." Jack sighed, and Ralph stifled a laugh. 

"Rude." Maurice hissed, his eyes narrowing. 

Ralph cleared his throat, and very delicately pulled out a shirt that read 'I love my grandma!'. He scrunched up his nose, turning away.

"This smells like burning plastic or something. It's awful."

"That's probably because I burned plastic in it." Maurice responded, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, Ralph. That's because he burnt plastic in it." Jack was not being helpful, and seemed to be very amused by everything that was going on. Ralph threw the shirt into an open garbage bag nearby, and smiled very aggressively.

"Awe, fuck!" 

A loud series of crashes, bangs, and various other noises of destruction followed this exclamation, and everyone whipped their heads around to see Simon, his hands over his mouth, and a shelf fallen at his feet. He was looking extremely guilty, and immediately began apologizing. He was completely ignored.

"Did anyone else hear that? Am I going crazy?" Ralph asked, looking around for support, and receiving many nods.

"Simon just said fuck!" Jack said, clapping. He sprung to his feet and walked over to Simon, where he took his hand and shook it with all of his strength. Simon was still in a state of shock and horror, it seemed. 

"Should we celebrate? This is an occasion!" Maurice chimed in, a wide smile on his face.

"It's not a big deal! I'm sure I've said it before, guys." Simon said sternly, snapping out of his guilt.

"No, you have not. You skip saying fuck in every song we sing. You once dropped an extremely heavy pan on your foot, and you used many words that started with f, but you did not actually say fuck." Ralph explained, looking very serious.

"Can we just continue?" Simon asked, and began to pick up the stuff that had fallen. Maurice wrote 'Simon's first fuck!' on his calendar. 

"There. Now we can continue." He said.

"You may want to phrase that differently." Roger piped in, tilting his head and holding back a laugh.

"Why?" Maurice asked, genuinely confused.

A loud chorus of 'nevermind' and 'really?' followed this, before Ralph managed to shush everyone and regain the peace that the room once barely held.

"Go back to work, or else." He glared at everyone, and they seemed to not be scared whatsoever, but continued their tasks.

Roger wasn't exactly having the greatest time of his life as he halfheartedly attempted to grab everything from under the bed and bring it out into the open. He could have sworn he felt something moving at one point, but had decided that he would not be that upset if some sort of creature dragged him under and killed him, as it would most likely be better than digging through an endless pile of garbage. 

Roger laid down on the floor and tried using his leg to sweep out large piles of whatever was hidden in the darkness, and as he did so he felt the need to throw up. He had accidentally revealed what seemed to have at one point been a chocolate cake, judging on the packaging alone, because the food inside was fairly unrecognizable. 

"Maurice, what the actual fuck?" He said, glaring across the room. Maurice looked over and his eyes widened as soon as they rested on the abomination of rotting chocolate. He swiftly crawled toward where Roger was sitting and kicked it back under the bed, receiving puzzled looks from his surrounding friends. 

"We need to get rid of that, it probably carries a disease or something!" Ralph looked thoroughly disgusted and as though he was moments away from abandoning this project.

"No! I- I need it. Don't ask." Maurice complained. 

"Why do you need a rotted cake, or whatever that thing used to be?"

Maurice paused for a moment before looking down at the ground and muttering, "It was supposed to be Roger's birthday cake."

"My birthday was months ago!"

"I forgot that it was here and so I put it under the bed and figured I'd throw it out so it didn't look like I was a bad friend who forgot about your birthday cake, and then I forgot about it, and now you know." Maurice reached under the bed and pulled out the circular tray, then gently passed it to Roger, who held it as far away from himself as he possibly could and dumped it into a nearby trash bag. 

"I really do not understand how we don't have mice yet." Piggy said as he neatly arranged the few books Maurice had in rainbow order, looking slightly disappointed in the small amount. 

"You wanna get pet mice too?" Maurice was much more enthusiastic now, and his eyes lit up at the idea of having his own pets. 

"We are not getting pet mice, I swear to God-" Ralph began, but sighed and seemed as though he had fully given up on arguing at this point. 

Eventually, the room began to improve. The piles on the floor were migrating to the bed, but without the trash mixed among the clothes. There were already around seven trash bags lined up outside the door, and the current trash bag that Sam was holding open was close to being full as well. The laundry machines were working hard on the first load, and Simon had opened the windows in order to get the air to smell a little bit less gross. 

And then, it finally happened. 

"Everybody, come here! Look!" Jack announced, and all of the boys began to gather around him and look at what he was pointing at. At the tip of his finger was a hardwood floor, finally uncovered and freed from the piles upon piles of trash and fabric. Sam began to clap, and everybody followed in his footsteps while a loud chorus of laughter and glee rang around the room.

"We're gonna do it, guys!" Maurice cheered, and then they all returned to their jobs, working just a little bit quicker as they were fueled by the sliver of hope. It was much more efficient now, and once Simon had retrieved the dry laundry, he and Piggy began to develop a system to fold it all and began to place it in the large wardrobe that waited. Jack, Ralph and Maurice were speeding along, and now all it took was a simple yes or no from Maurice before things were tossed towards Sam and Eric or hurtled onto the bed. Roger was nearing the end of his job, and seemed to be fairly proud of the work he had done.

More and more of the floor began to appear, spreading like wildfire, and as more was uncovered the hopeful mood began to spread. The breeze of the window brought a new perspective, and it seemed as though the chirping of the birds was cheering them on. Roger had joined in on folding duty, and it was all going well now, everybody working in perfect harmony. 

Maurice's smile only grew as his room began to take shape, and pictures that had fallen were hung neatly back up, newly dusted and shining in the sun. The clothes on the hangers were no longer drooping off or on the floor, but were neatly arranged. The cake was long gone, most likely in garbage bag number five, and the smell of the room was fresh now.

Loads of laundry left and entered the room, and as the last one was taken in and folded, the bed became fully uncovered and looked as good as new. Every shelf was perfectly organized, with nothing out of place, and the floor was finally free of all objects that had blanketed it when they began. Simon was sweeping, and Piggy followed after with a Swiffer. The subtle twinkling of the floorboard was enough to bring a tear to Maurice's eye. 

And so, as the last item was tossed into a trash bag and it was tied with a quick knot, a hush of peace fell over the room. Everybody was sitting on the bed, extremely crammed together and all in one tight space, but happy nonetheless. Maurice was swinging his feet off the side as he gazed upon his new living arrangement, and he scrambled off the bed to stand in front of everybody. 

All eyes were on him, and he began. "Thank you, everybody, for joining me today. I couldn't have done this without you. See you next year." He finished with a solemn nod.

"We don't have to do this next year if you keep it organized." Roger grumbled. 

"See you next year." Maurice replied, barely looking over at him. 

"You could at least try to keep it looking somewhat okay." Ralph pointed out, but was shushed once more. 

"See you next year."

"But-"

"See you next year!"

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!! :))))


End file.
